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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24623398">Dear, Stranger.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeriyaaa/pseuds/aeriyaaa'>aeriyaaa</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>GOT7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:47:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,419</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24623398</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeriyaaa/pseuds/aeriyaaa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Mark.<br/>You still don’t remember, do you?"</p>
<p>Jinyoung sees him on a Thursday - a memory that has forgotten him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Park Jinyoung/Mark Tuan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dear, Stranger.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuantuan92/gifts">tuantuan92</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For @/tuantuan92 - happy birthday!<br/>Please forgive me for gifting you an unfinished fic.<br/>But not for long. (Hopefully)<br/>Sending all my love to you on this lovely day.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He sees him on a Thursday.</p>
<p>Of course, out of all days of the week, it had to be on that day.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jinyoung was still wallowing over the fact that both his editor and his agent had been buzzing around his back all day long expecting him to provide at least a draft on the latest chapter. But alas, Park Jinyoung is not a magician and if he cannot conjure up a perfectly drawn chapter with a snap of his finger.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>No. Park Jinyoung was just a plain old comic book artist who is currently experiencing the biggest creative block in his life.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was certainly living the dream.</p>
<p>Sarcasm intended.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He has no idea when and where he had lost his motivation. He guesses that it might have been dwindling for the longest time, but he has been too involved on threading through the ins and outs of his life that the spark he once had slowly faded away.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Oh well, Jinyoung had long decided not to care.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The walk back home had been therapeutic to say the least. There had not been a lot of foot traffic along the way – perhaps because of the cold weather and the school holidays. This had been greatly appreciated since all Jinyoung needed right now was some peace and quiet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He could feel his mood improving as he trudged on his way that he even stopped by to purchase a bag full of meat buns on the local convenience store near his apartment. This will do for his dinner.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was a lone bench outside his apartment complex. It was a ratty, kind of old wooden thing that was almost hidden behind the bushes. Jinyoung has always wondered why the owners never bothered to have it removed; either they had either forgotten about it or it was not that much of an eyesore that they could not even be bothered.</p>
<p>Somehow either reason seemed so… sad.</p>
<p>Jinyoung had found it the week after he moved in – 23 years old him, all bright eyed and naïve, and about to start a career in a reputable company his peers can only dream of.</p>
<p>And now five years later, he was still in the same old job, albeit being grumpier and more cynical-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But one thing has not changed though, this bench, in its old, weather-worn form, has always been his safe space, away from the judgement of the world.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jinyoung took a seat on his usual spot. Compared to the past week, the weather has been more forgiving today. The sun has almost set and the almost winter breeze has been somewhat tolerable. So, what better way to enjoy his bag full of meat buns other than this moment?</p>
<p> </p>
<p> He took a small whiff from the warm paper bag before fishing out a small bread. Just as he was doing so, he had felt a small buzzing in his pocket.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was a message from his mother, which as usual, prompted a small sigh from Jinyoung. The small message reads her usual mantra of when are you going to visit more, your sister has told me you call her more than home, have you been seeing someone because I know this daughter of a friend and I think you and her would hit it off, etc.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This used to piss him off before because <em>she does know</em>, but he had learned to live with it. Because most of the time, her tirades of texts would be followed with an I love you no matter what and come visit sometime ‘cos your father and I miss you a lot.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jinyoung sighed as he sees a couple of missed calls from his agent. He munched on his third meat bun as he returned his phone into his pocket. <em>Maybe I’ll call him later or not.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was just enjoying his fourth meat bun when he sees him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jinyoung did not notice to him at first, but something about how this guy strides past him and paces back and forth in front of the entryway warranted his attention.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>He must be someone’s guest. He’s a grown man. He can find the front desk.</em> Jinyoung mulls and as he was about to look away, the guy turns to his general direction.</p>
<p>Jinyoung almost dropped his meet bun.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The guy was wearing a sheepish smile, his expression looked a little bit loss, but there was an undeniable confidence in the way he holds himself that seems so natural. <em>Almost.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jinyoung’s hands shook when he walked towards him. Usually, he loved the fact that this spot is almost hidden to everyone that nobody pays attention to him, but now panic coursed through his veins as he knows his privacy was again going to be invaded by this guy.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It smells good.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He says to Jinyoung.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“W-what?” Jinyoung asked in awe. Confusion must have been written all over his face.</p>
<p>“Those,” The answer was the answer that he got. “Those meat buns. They smell great.” Jinyoung looked at him apprehensively as he took the empty space beside him.</p>
<p>Jinyoung nods – trying to steal a glance at the person beside him. He must have been staring a bit more than normal when he says,</p>
<p>“I’m actually going out with someone living here.” He pointed awkwardly at the apartment building behind them. “I hope I’m not giving you the wrong idea here. I’m just… waiting for him. He’s not that comfortable giving me the keys yet to his apartment and he’s on his way home. I figured I’d just wait outside, but I smelled your bread and it’s weird. I’m just hoping your not creeped out and all…”</p>
<p>“You’re babbling.” Jinyoung cuts him off which made the other snort.</p>
<p>“I know.” Jinyoung heard him reply after a couple of pauses. “A lot of people tell me that.”</p>
<p>“Well, they’re not wrong.” Jinyoung says finally and hands off the remaining bag of meat buns to him. He sees his surprised expression, but he smiled, nonetheless. “I hope your boyfriend doesn’t make you wait for long. See you around. I guess.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jinyoung sees him nod and mouthed a small ‘thanks’ from the corner of his eye. That was when Jinyoung decided that it was time to return to his apartment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He tightened his hold on his coat – the only way to stop himself from shivering. He felt numb. Park Jinyoung felt numb as he walked into the entrance, giving a short nod to the nice doorman and walking straight to the elevators.</p>
<p>His façade crumbled down as the elevator doors closed off and he felt himself leaning against the wall, sighing deeply.</p>
<p>There was a notebook sitting on his bedside table. Some days, Jinyoung enjoyed flipping the old, brownish pages and looking at old illustrations he made.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Most days, he only looked at the very last page, where a random scrawl was handwritten. It used to upset Jinyoung at first, because it was such a messy penmanship. But now, it had always served as a reminder of an almost forgotten memory.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jinyoung traced the aged ink strokes carefully as he lounged on his bed that night, trying not to think about what has occurred a few hours prior. His agent had tried to give him a call earlier and this time, Jinyoung opted to ignore it. He would just hear about it tomorrow at the office.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He had always prepared for this moment – practiced on what he would say and how he would act. Most of his time during the university years (aside from the moments when he was trying not to drown himself with coffee) were spent standing in front of a mirror, imagining, daydreaming of the day they would finally meet again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Finally.</p>
<p>And Jinyoung made a fool of himself.</p>
<p>
  <em>Mark.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>You still don’t remember, do you?</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jinyoung allowed himself to sigh once more as he places the notebook on his chest, cradling it as if it would soothe the worry in his heart.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>“What the hell is this? Mark, I swear to God. I told you not to touch my things!”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“It’s on the last page. Calm down, will you? See? I didn’t ruin your notebook.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“And what am I supposed to be seeing?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“It’s a certificate. You need to sign it.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Sign what- ‘This is to certify that Mark Yien Tuan is Park Jinyoung’s first official best friend’- Hell no. Never. Not gonna sign that. Nope. Not my best friend”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Just do it. Here, I’ll sign it first.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Ugh. Fine.”</em>
</p>
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